#Rosaire

[merlwybs-wife]

[lovethewayyoudoso]

What better to pair a personal crisis with than fast food chicken and top tier wine? Rosaire's go-to comfort food, no matter when and where in life, is greasy chicken... And the cheaper the better! He's had his chef try to recreate the goodness but it's seemingly impossible.

I sketched this as a joke between my best friend and I when I was trying to develope the character more. Imagine coming home to find your pretentious boyfriend wearing your sweatshirt, gorging on KFC with your cat, and watching trashy reality TV from Europe... Yeah, Toshiya wasn't sure what to do.

[claraweems]

Tuesday Ponderings

I was thinking about Rosaire tonight and his reactions to people asking about his style choices. By the time he's a teen and started finding himself the world is a somewhat accepting place but things have a long way to go, even today.

If someone asks in kind, genuine curiosity he tells them the truth: this is how he feels most comfortable and more attractive. He enjoys being unique! And why should women have all the lovely patterns, flares and accessories?

If someone, especially a 'macho man' type, comes at him with less friendliness in their heart he begins to pick apart their style, their outfit.

You're wearing floral print too, aren't you? Oh, a Hawaiian/dress shirt doesn't count?

You're wearing jewelry too, though. Isn't that in the domain of the feminine? YOUR necklace and earrings don't count because they're 'manly' huh? Hmm. Perhaps.

A t-shirt and jeans? Isn't that something women wear? Isn't that something that non-binaries wear? Doesn't seem to be particularly manly to me.

He has no time for haters, especially those of the bigoted or closed-minded variety. Has he ever changed an opinion? Probably not, but perhaps he gave at least one person some food for thought that brought silence to their lips the next time they chose to judge. Rosaire is no less of a man because he wears delicate styles or heeled shoes; fashion rings, cosmetics... anyone can wear them. Anyone could before and anyone could now, but now more and more people are standing up for it.

[melidelv]

Catholicism is beautiful 💗

[thehotspear]

👍 Does my muse prefer to be asked on a date, or would they rather do the asking?

💗 Has my muse ever been in love?

Lancelain is more used to being the pursuer in relationships. When he gets around to deciding he wants something he chases it. As such I am not sure he's ever in his life had anyone ask -him- on a date. It would probably really surprise him. Though not unpleasantly so. Lancelain has been in love with love or at least with the rather hedonistic pursuit of pleasure and companionship and the attendant nerves and flutters. When he wasn't fighting dragons he really just enjoyed that rush of similar adrenaline. As for actually falling in love, genuinely and wholly with another person and not just the temporary pleasure of their company? Only once. He made up his mind to pursue Father Evariste for the thrill of it at first, and because he found him beautiful. But it was not an easy conquest and in the process he spent a great deal of time talking to the man. He found him to be intelligent, well read, eloquent. Despite himself Lancelain fell in love with the way his eyes lit when he spoke passionately about something, with his words and insightful opinions. He found himself sharing books he liked no longer in an attempt to seduce the lovely priest but only because he desperately wanted Evariste's opinion. And by the time he finally made his conquest he had been conquered himself without even realizing how it happened.

[dedansdehorsbychristianriviere]

Splendide retable de l’église St Pierre de Grand-Vabre près de Conques. En cette journée de la Saint Dominique, c’est le jour pour la publier. On y voit St Dominique recevant le rosaire des mains de la Madone accompagné par Sainte Catherine. D’un côté une nativité de Jésus et de l’autre L’Assomption. Il est daté de 1625. Sa restauration évidente est superbe vous ne trouvez pas ? J’adore visiter les églises et découvrir leurs trésors, pas vous ? #tourisme #aveyron #aveyrontourisme #conques #grandvabre #eglise #saintdominique #dominiqueguzmán #art #eglisecatholique #artreligieux #rosaire #rosary (à Grand-Vabre) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cg_qKWuDwFv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[houserosaire]

I couldn't resist making one of these for Silvaineaux. The quote is just his House motto. Here is the template in case anyone else would like to play around with it.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Baron Silvaineaux de Rosaire

Baron Silvaineaux de Rosaire,

Is often encountered at prayer,

Yet his faith in Halone,

Is no mere ceremony,

But also expressed through warfare...

For the next installment of my silly poetry series, we have the noble and charismatic Baron Silvaineaux de Rosaire of @houserosaire.

Silvaineaux is an incredibly well-realised character, with a compelling backstory and a potent blend of flaws and virtues. I always thoroughly enjoy reading the responses to character asks and learning more about Silvaineaux and his world.

The writing style is engaging and punchy and there are some beautiful screenshots and gposes, with a heady mix of action, romance, chocobos, family drama, eroticism and humour.

I can definitely recommend @houserosaire for all of the above reasons, but the writer is also thoroughly pleasant and supportive of others and interacting with them is always fun.

[merlwybs-wife]

wanted to take some gpose inspired by hellfire (from hunchback of notredame) of my friend's inquisitor who definitely mistook his desires for witchcraft lmao

additional silly meme gpose beneath the cut, but it shows a butt so be warned

Then tell me, Halone, why I see him dancing there?

[lovethewayyoudoso]

Moussa Rosaire Rousseau

ルソー・ロザエール

b. 8 September in Bordeaux, France

Parents: Moussa Rousseau (d.) and Agnès Konate Rousseau (d.)

Siblings: None

Physical Attributes:

Height: 1,54m (5ft1in)

Weight: 52kg (114lb)

Type 4c hair, naturally black but often dyed brown or red, occasionally with colorful portions or extensions. Always kept in either knotless braids or cornrows. Lower half of his hair is kept shaved tight, so the braids are only on top but kept long.

He has sharp, slightly angled eyes that are blue. Nose is fairly broad by round, lips are full, and face is a soft heart-shape. His skin is a deep hickory shade. He is a meticulous user of moisturizers and cremes and lotions and potions, so he has a perfect complexion and soft skin. His facial hair, and body hair for that matter, has all been permanent removed. Eyebrows are meticulously kept but are on the slight side to begin with.

Style and Appearance:

Light cosmetics are common: mascara and eyeliner every day; lip tint and eyeshadow when he needs to look nice; full foundation and all when he needs to look stunning. (Or if he's feeling particularly 'beautiful' on any given day, whatever!)

Generally, he styles himself with more feminine-feeling clothing however it is typically made custom for him or is a customized designer good. Most of it would be a men's style or cut, but with traditionally feminine fabrics, colors and accoutrements. He loves gold jewelry, especially with diamonds or coordinating gemstones. He has a single piercing in his nose and multiple on each ear. Typically, ear jewelry is worn asymmetrically, with a long or large earring on the right and a coordinating piece or a mate for the large earring on the left. He always has at least one necklace on, whether it be a simple chain or a statement piece. Bracelets are more uncommon, and he might wear one fashion ring or he might wear multiple.

Personality:

He's a spoiled brat, especially in his youth. As an adult he's full of himself and quite prideful. He's got charisma and a mind for running his business empire. Demanding, focused; he's a classic type A personality on the brink of burnout. To compensate, he's addicted to social media where he has a decent following. (He's 'famous' for being rich; he is not an entertainer of any sort, and his business ventures aren't particularly interesting to the younger generation.)

He's surrounded by acquaintances and a strong social and professional network, but he has little time or want for a long-term romantic partner. He does, however, keep Grindr installed on his phone for when he doesn't have a new flavor-of-the-month plaything, whether it be somebody from a club, a social media influencer, or the like. As he enters his thirties, he's getting a bit tired of this game, but it's all he knows.

By adulthood he is completely fluent in English and French and has passable Japanese. He has few creative abilities or skills though he appreciates the arts. To supports those like him but without the resources, and as a slight to his late father, he is a lifelong donor to a major LGBT organization that offers counselling, education and other resources for LGBT youth. He attended private and group sessions and classes lead by the same organization, behind his father's back, when he was finding his own place in the world.

He is attracted to men of all varieties with zero interest in women (bordering on an aversion to the gender, save for Fabienne).

Brief Background:

Born into exceptional wealth, Rosaire is the only child of a multi-millionaire businessman. His family owns one Africa and Europe's largest logistics companies and during his youth things start getting global. His mother died with he was just shy of five years old and his father was definitely not the type to be a parent. He was raised by his nanny alongside her own daughter, Fabienne, whom he views as a sister.

When he is twelve years old his father and his business partner decide to begin investing heavily in the Asian market, starting with buying out a large courier company in Japan. He uproots his son and they move to Osaka which is an extreme culture shock to the boy. His only saving graces are that his nanny and Fabienne come with, and his school is an international academy that is comprised mostly of the children of other elites from all around the world.

Few of his fellow classmates find him to be particularly friend-worthy but they include him anyway. They're all much bigger fans of Fabienne. The two of them, however, do face an interesting combination of racism and genuine curiosity from the locals when they are out and about with the nanny and chauffeur. Rosaire is relieved of the bullying for his particularly petite stature; he can handle trying to sternly educate about racism if it means he doesn't have to suffer another short joke.

The supposedly brief stay in Japan turns into years and years. Rosaire goes to university at an elite school nearby. During his first year his father dies, and he suddenly has immense freedom. He loses control of his life due to excessive partying, whatever all you can imagine that entails, until he is brought back to reality by his best friend from senior high school and Fabienne. Once he finishes his education, he is officially given control of his family's company and he grows it like never before.

Fun Facts:

Favorite Color: Purple

Favorite Flower: Wild Flowers

Favorite Mental Breakdown Activity: Eating greasy fast food and watching reality TV

Secret Skill or Passion: Collecting Mercedes-Benz vehicles and philately (don't you DARE call it stamp collecting)

Biggest Pet Peeves: Calling him by his legal given name and short jokes

[gracie-bird]

Grace Kelly visits the Chapel of the Rosary in Vence (France) where stained-glass windows and ceramics were designed by Matisse, c. 1955.

The chapel was dedicated to the Dominican Order and was built and decorated between 1947 and 1951 under a plan devised by artist Henri Matisse.

It houses a number of Matisse original works and was regarded by Matisse as his "masterpiece". While the simple white exterior has drawn mixed reviews from casual observers, some regard it as one of the great religious structures of the 20th century.

[thestoneheart]

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

When he glanced up at Marin’s window again Gaheriet knew he had to stop. He had been hammering out his temper on the practice dummy long enough that his bones were beginning to ache and his breath was coming short, but the problem was that he could not stop looking up at Marin’s windows. 

He was damned if he knew what he expected to see there or even what he wanted to. He was being a bloody idiot. Gaheriet told himself viciously as he scooped his cloak off the hedge he’d tossed it at and made for the back door. Was he looking for the man’s visitor to leave? He let out a single rough bark of a laugh as he tossed his practice blade into the bin by the door, relishing the fierce clatter of it. That wasn’t going to happen. A man didn’t invite a courtesan over for a nice cup of tea. 

He stopped there in the back entryway, glowering down at the practice blades and considered. Was he going to go back upstairs past that door across the landing and sit all night waiting for a departure that wasn’t going to happen? Or was he going to face up to things he should have made himself face up to months ago? A sick dread welled up in him with the thought but the flood of temper he woke to follow it nicely washed it out. 

He slung the cloak back around his sweating shoulders and made straight for the front door, pausing only to address the butler. “Tell my uncle not to expect me for dinner. Or back tonight. But he’s not to worry.”

“Very good, sir.”

He made himself close the front door gently behind him, even if the soft snap of the lock clicking into place was not as satisfying as a slam would have been. It was time to tear the bandage off the whole damn thing. He had been a fool, and maybe a bothersome one, which was not an image of himself he much liked, even if Ice surely deserved some sort of bothering. He had been mooning over the man in some misplaced way and he had known from the beginning it was a mistake. 

He had been, Fury, but idiot was not the right word for the kind of moron he’d been. The more he thought of it the more the shame welled up. Gaheriet grabbed that shame in both hands and let it turn into the inferno of self recriminating temper that he needed to keep walking. It carried him out of the Pillars and past the more familiar shapes of congregation and the rest of the soldier’s quarter. His furious strides did not even begin to slow until he’d reached the mouth of the little street he needed to turn down.

There he paused for a moment, bracing himself for the coming pain of it. He’d been avoiding this place for months. Avoiding it so fiercely he had not even been to the little street it was tucked into. He had not seen the front door of his office since he’d locked it behind him and Josselin that last time. 

He’d paid the rent every month and told himself he’d find the time to come back and clear it out. Then he avoided it. 

Not today. 

Today he had been plainly shown the error of his idiot ways and he was going to face it. If this was the place love had begun then this was surely as good a place as any to go for an ending. Even if all he was going to end was the delusion that he’d been chasing these last weeks. 

What he felt when he looked at Josselin’s brother was, as Ice and his pretty little courtesan had made so clear, his own problem and nobody else’s. He was furious with himself for letting it be a problem at all. He had been an idiot to think there was any damn thing between them but the hollow space left by a man they had both loved. He strode firmly down the street, stomped his foot onto the empty doorstep and thrust the key into the lock like he was ramming it into his own foolish heart. 

Temper carried him on his first pass through the dusty rooms. His own angry internal voice drowned out everything and moved him through the automatic motions of kindling fires in each of the fireplaces and the stove. 

And then he turned and found two dusty teacups on the sideboard, just where Josselin had rinsed them and set them aside that last morning. His breathing shuddered to a stop. His hands came down on the counter so hard the shock of it ran like lightning up his arms. A tear burned its way down his cheek and fell into the thin layer of dust on the countertop. “Damn you.” He snarled at it, and didn’t know if he meant Josselin or Ice or himself.

@thedarknesssings for Ice, @templemoth for sideways mentions of Fane

[roses-and-grimoires]

Prompt #14: Clear

Characters: Idristan, Talan @zoetic-tome, Silvaineaux @houserosaire Warnings: Blood

The darkening sky was clear overhead as Idristan stood across from the man who had decided to insult his husband not once, but twice. In truth, he had been half-expecting him to not show up at all; many were far too craven, once they realized that the man who had decided to challenge them knew how to wield a blade well. But any glimmers of appreciation he might have been his opponent for bravery were dashed the moment that he had opened his mouth.

As they stand across the field of snow from each other, him and the man who had dared to insult his husband, Idristan takes a moment to feel the weight of the rapier. Different, from the one he was used to, but pleasantly solid, the tip slimming down to a vicious point.

He nods once, then looks forward, eyes blazing with enough fury to make their goddess proud. Then, abruptly, he smirks, and lifts his arms out to the sides. Come and get him. If you dare.

As his opponent charges towards him, he steps smoothly out of the way with an near supernatural speed and grace. One of his legs snaps out as he does so, and the other man falls flat on his face into the snow.

A smirk lingers on the white-haired man's face as the rude Ishgardian sputters and shoves himself to his feet, his face red as he looks around and spots faces with hints of amusement. He lunges again, and again the voidhunter dodges, leading him on a merry chase. Every now and then, he follows up with an attack of his own, but they are always measured, controlled. Not enough to draw blood.

He is in control here, and this dance would go on as long as he wished it to.

When he finally grows bored, like a cat might tire of toying with a mouse, the end comes swiftly. A dodge, a sharp thrust, and suddenly blood coats the snow as Idristan rips his rapier from the shoulder of the other man.

His eyes are cold as he turns away, ignoring the crunch as the other man's second rushes towards him. With a careless flick of the wrist he casts some of the blood off his weapon, before handing it to Silvaineaux with an appreciative nod. Then he looks over towards Talan.

"I hope that was enough for you, mon amour." He finally glances back over his shoulder, his lips pursing as he watches the fuss going on behind him. "Because I don't think he's going to forget this for awhile."

[lesliensdesarah]

[iron-roots]

Getting to know new friends (and attempting to pummel them into the dirt)

@houserosaire

[houserosaire]

Silvaineaux in his outfit for Priarch's Starlight party. He only regretted not wearing armor a little.